


There Are Actually Very Little Things Science Can Explain

by akaaaasheh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi did not sign up for this, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Friendship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, More tags will be added with additional chapters, Pining, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Wisdom Teeth, a LOT of silent pining, actually neither did i how did i write this, friendship fluff, improper use of peanut butter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaaaasheh/pseuds/akaaaasheh
Summary: Akaashi so dearly wants to turn around and walk out the door because he deserves none of whatever monstrosity that is about to befall him. It takes almost all of his willpower to keep his feet rooted to the ground and tentatively clear his throat to get the attention of the two possible idiots in front of him.::o::(Akaashi moves into a new apartment and is NOT prepared to deal with any of the shenanigans of Bokuto and Kuroo and especially not prepared to deal with a crush on Kenma)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Oikawa Tooru, Akaashi Keiji & Suzumeda Kaori, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 38
Kudos: 95





	1. and they were rommates

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic ever. wow. finally got the guts to post sth huh. I don't have a beta so there may be some mistakes ;[ I'd appreciate any feedback or comments :)
> 
> hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi meets his roommates and neighbours and contemplates many decisions.

It’s difficult to surprise Keiji. After all, he is friends with the infamous Oikawa Tooru, known for being exceptionally peculiar. He barely flinched when said eccentric had strutted into his room in a fully sequined bodysuit made to perhaps blind all of mankind and insisted on a trip to the planetarium. So the little bit of hesitancy he exhibits while stepping into his new apartment speaks volumes for the shock Keiji experiences at the sight of two fully grown men lathering themselves in peanut butter while sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

One of them, a tall lanky fellow with a bedhead that seems to be an exact replica of some sort of birds’ nest, has his hand stuffed into a jar of skippy, wriggling his fingers as if trying to scavenge the last bit of peanut butter off the sides of the jar. He seems to be the lesser evil seeing as only his arm and a bit of his neck show signs of the spread. The person beside him though, is an entirely different story, maybe a different volume of novels altogether. His ashy grey hair is wrapped in cling wrap so that only the gelled up top of what looked like spiky mountains is visible. There is peanut butter from the top of his forehead all the way down to his shirtless torso. 

Keiji so dearly wants to turn around and walk out the door because he deserves none of whatever monstrosity that is about to befall him. It takes almost all of his willpower to keep his feet rooted to the ground and tentatively clear his throat to get the attention of the two possible idiots in front of him. 

Clingwrap notices him first. He raises his arms in an enthusiastic wave that seems to involve his entire body. Keiji ponders about the adhesive capacity of peanut butter and whether it can withstand so much motion while on somebody’s face. 

Seeing his friend’s sudden diversion of attention, Bedhead turns towards him lazily. “Oh! You must be Kenma’s new roommate. Nice to meet you!” 

From beside him, Clingwrap’s expression turns to that of absolute despair, his lips pulling down into an impossible pout. Keiji hypothesizes that finally one of them has recognised the absurdity in the current situation, alas, he is once again proven wrong. 

“Kuroo! Bro! My hair is not gelled, how am I supposed to make a good first impression on Kenma’s roommate if my hair is not gelled!”

Keiji has to yet again practice his composure and refrain from squinting at the boy to express his puzzlement. Gelled hair is more likely the least of their problems. 

Bedhead (Kuroo-san, Keiji gleams) seems appropriately troubled by this. “Dude, I told you to wear the waterproof gel, but you thought Princess wouldn’t cause a fuss!”

“Well, most dogs I work with don't!” 

“Princess is not like most dogs, Princess is a goddamn chihuahua from hell.”

Keiji doesn't know how to interject the banter and decides it's not worth trying. He stands completely still as he waits for some form of assistance to free him from this disaster of a situation and it comes in the form of a human blanket burrito. Keiji recognises his roommate from the online confirmation letter. Kenma emerges from a mountain of blankets sporting a frown. “Oi. You forgot to introduce yourselves.” 

Both boys jump up in unison.

“I'm Kuroo Tetsurou,” says Kuroo, extending his hand for a handshake. Keiji respectfully declines, seeing as he would rather not have peanut butter touch any part of him. 

It’s futile because Bokuto takes both his hands and shakes them, almost violently. “My name is Bokuto Koutarou! Wow, you’re really pretty! Are you a model? What’s your name?” 

“I’m Akaashi Keiji, nice to meet you.”

Fortunately, Bokuto’s hands are relatively peanut-butter free. Akashi tries to pull his hands away nonetheless but Bokuto’s grip is a little too sturdy. Seeing his obvious discomfort, Kenma trudges over, blanket pulled around his shoulder like a cape. 

“You’re making him uncomfortable. Stop.” 

Bokuto lets go of his hands with a yelp, shouting an apology. 

“I'll show you your room,” Kenma says gently, walking deeper into the apartment. 

Keiji dips his head in farewell to the other two and follows him, undeniably eager to put down his heavy bags. Conversation trails after him though Keiji doesn’t think he needs to participate. 

“Kuroo! I just had a thought!”

“Oh no.”

“I swear it's a good one this time!”

Kenma leads him past the small kitchen and stops at the second door. He unlocks the door and hands him the key. It's attached to a key chain, an image of a cat lying flat on its back and wearing sunglasses. It's cute. 

“I hope that wasn't too weird. Kuroo and Bokuto are really nice and friendly but they tend to get a little too excited about meeting new people.” Kenma murmurs as he pushes the door open. 

_I'll take it that the whole peanut butter thing is normal._

Kenma leaves without lingering and as soon as the door closes behind him, Keiji falls into the bed gracelessly. There are no sheets so the rough material of the mattress scratches his cheeks as he surveys his room. It’s bare and plain; white walls with matching white furniture that give the room the ambience of a hospital ward. His windows are bare too and Keiji presses his lips together in displeasure when he realises the overhang blocks a complete view of the sky. He can still hear boisterous conversation from the living room, but it's muffled enough that he can't decipher it. With an exasperated sigh, he sits up again, determined to finish unpacking before the end of the day. 

::o::

Keiji must have fallen asleep at some point because he wakes up to desperate shouts and angry barking. 

“KENMA THAT HURTS!”

“WHAT THE FUCK KUROO. HELP!”

In a normal situation, Keiji would be more than inclined to completely ignore any pleas for help in favour of returning to bed. However, it feels wrong to give up on people he barely knows. The small part of his brain containing his conscience reasons that he should at least try to get along with his roommates before giving up on any sort of civil interactions. Hence Keiji finds himself peering out of his door with the amount of apprehension one might demonstrate while dealing with wild animals.

Well, he wasn't that far off comparing his roommates (sans Kenma, though even that is debatable) to wild animals so he decides not to feel too bad about it. 

He had changed into something more comfortable before sleeping, so the oversized sweater hangs loosely on his body. He crosses his arms before him and grabs onto the extra fabric as if it can grant protection from whatever demonic activities his roommates (plural because Keiji is not even sure where Bokuto and Kuroo even live) were taking part in. 

He creeps into the living room, and the sight before him represents some sort of medieval painting, depicting a scene right before disaster. Bokuto is kneeling before the couch and in his arms is the ugliest chihuahua Keiji has ever seen. He didn't even realise canines could run this ugly but the living proof lay in front of him, big bulging eyes, uneven hair and the meanest scowl to put the whole look together. Kuroo is standing on the headboard of the couch with Kenma on his shoulders holding him in a death grip. His facial expressions are relatively calm and the only way Keiji detects his distress is through the tightness of his lips and pale complexion

 _I'm way too sober for this._ Keiji thinks. 

All three human heads turn his way and Keiji realises that perhaps, because of his sleep muddled brain, his words were said out loud rather than in his head as he intended. The dog takes the diversion of attention to wiggle out of Bokuto’s grasp and pounce towards Kuroo. What follows is what Keiji cleverly predicted to be a disaster. 

Kenma tries to jerk higher onto Kuroo’s shoulder, causing him to lose his footing and come crashing down onto the couch (thankfully). Kenma rolls forward and almost lands face first on the floor, but Bokuto reaches out just in time to catch him. The chihuahua pounces onto Kuroo’s chest and starts licking his neck. Upon further inspection, Kuroos neck is dripping with something red. 

“Is that blood?” Keiji asks, despite his better judgement. 

“No?” Kuroo answers, dazed. 

“That's not a question you're supposed to answer with another question”

“Ah, it might be strawberry jam. Bo and I were trying to get Princess to stay still while we clipped its nails. It worked with peanut butter so I thought strawberry jam might work too.”

Kenma seems to have regained some of his composure. He straightens up stiffly and points an accusing finger towards Kuroo.

“Take the evil pup and never come back.” 

Kuroo gulps visibly, grabs a squealing Princess and rushes out the door. Keiji marvels at his agility in times of crisis. 

“And you” Kenma turns a withering glare to Bokuto.

Keiji waits for Kenma to continue but he doesn't have much more to say. He sighs and walks into the kitchen, leaving Bokuto frozen, mouth open and wide eyed. Keiji takes the chance to clarify in hopes that new information will help him understand whatever the heck was going on. 

“Your dog is very… excitable.”

Bokuto turns to him, eyes shining, apparently recovered from whatever nonverbal trauma Kenma had inflicted upon him. “Oh, It's not ours! The landlady told us that she would forgive us for setting the parking lot on fire if we give her dog a full grooming routine.”

“She probably thought she could trust you since you volunteer at the dog shelter.” Kenma’s voice floats from the kitchen where he is pouring himself apple juice. 

An awkward silence follows. Keiji wracks his brain, searching for ways to not let the conversation die. He comes up empty and gives up entirely, afterall social interaction has never been his forte. He is about to return to his room when Bokuto speaks up again, his words coming out in a flurry as if he had been holding them in for too long. 

“Akaashi, right? Do you wanna join us for dinner? Kuroo didn't make anything today so we're probably going to order takeout. If you don't have any plans please join us? It'll be more fun for sure!” 

::o::

Dinner is relatively uneventful. Kuroo comes back, clean shirt on and no trace of strawberry jam anywhere. The pizza arrives sometime later and Keiji finds himself packed between two Kuroo and Bokuto on the couch while Kenma sits himself on the floor beside the coffee table, pizza boxes conveniently within reach. He manages to learn much about them starting with the fact that they do not, in fact, live in the apartment. 

“Ours is the opposite apartment upstairs! But we always end up coming here because it's much bigger.” Bokuto informs him while stuffing an entire slice of pizza into his mouth. Keiji is duly impressed and equally disgusted. 

“Actually the real reason is because Kenma would never climb up a flight of stairs to hang out with us.” Kuroo adds helpfully. 

“Man, that's so sad! Our apartment is honestly much cooler. It’s so plain here!”

The conversation drifts off to their recent (mis)adventure with the landlady’s dog and Keiji finds himself staring at his roommate, Kenma. If they met under more normal circumstances, Keiji is sure that they would have clicked instantly. He has a certain mellow and calming presence that Keiji finds himself drawn to. He doesn’t talk much and looks relatively disinterested, but the intelligent gleam in his hazel eyes gives away his attention. They would dart around occasionally even when he seems engrossed in his phone. For some reason, he reminds Keiji of a cat, with his blond hair with dark roots and clever eyes and distinct grace.

Keiji catches his strange train of thought and promptly ensures said train has been knocked off the tracks forever. He isn’t one to be easily attracted to others but even he can’t deny Kenma is the type of curious beauty that one couldn't help but let their gaze linger towards. Keiji excuses himself for the night before his imagination can get out of hand, bidding a short farewell and ignoring the request to stay longer. 

Just as he is about to tuck in for the night, his phone buzzes to life. The caller ID shows Kaori, his childhood friend. He grimaces thinking about the chiding he is about to get for forgetting to contact her. He picks up nonetheless and her cheery voice is a pleasant and familiar sound. 

“Keiji! You didn't call!” Kaori whines and the corners of Keiji’s mouth tilt up when he can almost hear her sulk. 

“I wasn't really in a state of mind…”

“Whatever. How's your apartment? Tell me everything.”

“This was a horrible idea, why did you let me do it?” Keiji says, lying down on his bed, now properly fitted with sheets. 

“I have a feeling you’re being overdramatic” Kaori replies brightly, her voice on the verge of being a song.

“No. If you saw what I saw, you too would fear for your sanity. I’ve never seen peanut butter being abused this badly.” 

He gives a brief rundown of his first encounters with his neighbours. It sounds like a fever dream even though he is completely certain they are his own experiences. 

“...Maybe it’s a sex thing?”

“That’s much worse.”

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad.”

Keiji takes a deep breath. It really isn't that bad. Sure he is going to be surrounded by the most obnoxious people on the planet but he could (probably) handle that. Rather, something about the whole situation gave Keiji a sense of impending doom, as if his involvement would lead to something bad happening.

“They're good people, Kaori. But you know I can't afford to lose focus this year.”

The air becomes heavy. Kaori sighs from the other end of the line. 

“Okay, how about this? Try living with them for a week or too. If you really think you can’t live with them, I'll ask my aunt about the college hostel rooms. She usually doesn't like admitting people too late, but she likes you well enough.”

Keiji breathes out in relief. Having options is startlingly reassuring. 

“Thank you Kaori. You’re the best.”

“When am I not?” She chuckles. “You can do it Keiji. Call me if anything happens. Call me if nothing happens. Love you!” 

“Love you too.”

The call ends with a click and Keiji lets his arms fall. 

Finding his own apartment was not his idea, but when Oikawa had suggested it, he knew it was the only way he could prove himself. He has been living his whole life sheltered and privileged, and the only way to prove he could live in a world bigger than his own was to go out and do exactly that. Not to mention, his life had become such an epic mess in the last few months that moving away seemed like the only reasonable option available. However, there was so much at stake that the mere thought of the coming weeks gave him headaches. 

He inhales sharply and gets up. The future will not wait for him to get his shit together. Classes start in two weeks and he still has some administrative matters to attend to. 

_Just gotta keep pushing,_ he thinks grimly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end! 
> 
> [This is what Bokuroo were trying to do with the peanut butter just in case y’all were wondering.](https://www.unilad.co.uk/animals/california-woman-shares-genius-peanut-butter-trick-that-lets-her-easily-clip-dogs-nails/)
> 
> Next chapter: Someone goes to jail, maybe. Kenma is majorly pissed. Akaashi learns a lesson about Life and Friendship.


	2. The Five Stages Of Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi finally gets a bonding session with his neighbours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this one day :P hope you like it!

Keiji doesn't know if it's God's way of apologising, but he does not see much of his roommate or neighbours (who Keiji has taken the liberty to name Disaster Duo) during his first week in his new apartment. 

Living with Kenma is like living with a ghost; the only proof that there is a cohabitant in the apartment is the occasional doors slamming, food scraps and frustrated growls from his room. Other than that, Kenma spends his days holed up in his own room. The few times Keiji runs into him he is either dressed up to go out or lounging on the kitchen floor, long fingers pressing violently on his PSP while he eats chips off the floor. 

The Disaster Duo makes two more appearances, and both times Keiji escapes into his room. Their volume is apparently only at 120% because even from the safety of his room he can hear snippets of conversation once in a while. 

“KENMA I TOLD YOU EAT THE PIE IN MODERATION! MO-DE-RA-TION! NOT IN ONE DAY!”

“NO WAY, THAT MANY DILDOS IN ONE PLACE?”

“I'M ABOUT 80% SURE DOING SHOTS IN A HANDSTAND CAN LEAD TO DEATH”

Keiji makes it a point to not cross paths with them so when he runs into them (literally runs into them) while going for a night job, he tries his best not to show any of the displeasure he feels. 

“Akaashi! Long time no see, though that's probably what you wanted.” Kuroo comments as a greeting. 

Kuroo is sporting an especially annoying smirk, yet Keiji feels the warmth creep up his neck following the guilt. He did not realise he was being obvious with his avoidance of the two, but the clever glint in Kuroo’s eyes led him to believe he would have realised anyway. 

Bokuto, on the other hand, looks positively thrilled to see him. Keiji fails to dodge as his arms come around in a bear hug. The enthusiasm and sudden physical contact causes Keiji’s blush to extend all the way to his ears. 

Bokuto lets go but the smile on his face is blinding. “Hey!! Is Kenma home?”

“Hello Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san,” Keiji says with a polite nod. “I’m not too sure about that, sorry. Why not go in and see?”

Bokuto pouts and there is a peculiar clench in Keiji’s chest. 

“He told us that we can only come after 2am.”

“And Bokuto's bed time is eleven, so we decided to just pop by,” Kuroo adds. 

Keiji does not know how to reply to that. He decides to nod and be on his way because dealing with the Disaster Duo just brings him headaches. He can’t possibly make a worse impression on them, and he is too tired to hold a proper conversation. “I’m going on a run. See you around.”

::o::

Keiji is sweating and panting heavily by the time he finishes his new route. He hasn’t found a circuit he likes so the last few days has been spent trying out new roads and routines. The neighbourhood is remarkably serene at night. There is a dog park just a street away that is usually vacant at night and it's currently Keiji’s favourite place. 

As he’s climbing the stairs to his apartment on the first floor, he collides with an extremely distressed Bokuto. 

“Oh Akaaash! Thank god.” He gasps, looking as if he’s on the verge of tears. 

Keiji goes rigid with alarm. He does not have to feign concern when faced with such raw anxiety. 

“What happened? Did Kenma not let you in?” 

Bokuto grimaces. He continues as both of them walk up the stairs together. 

“Kenma’s not home. Apparently he went to a game convention in the next town but he didn’t want to tell us ‘cause we would wanna come too, and the last time we went we were escorted out.”

“Understandable,” Keiji mumbles before he can stop himself. 

Bokuto doesn’t seem affected. He continues, his voice unexpectedly soothing when his volume is normal. 

“Yea, but I really wanted to play Mario Kart right. So Kuroo, being the best bro ever, tried to pick the lock so we could go in and play. And while he’s doing his magic, I really need to shit, so I go back to our apartment and by the time I come back Kuroo’s gone. And then I see the landlady and she says the security guard caught him trying to break in so he took him to the police.”

Bokuto’s words flow out like a bullet train so Keiji needs a moment to make sense of it. He needs another moment to absorb the absurdity of what he just heard. 

“I would go and pick him up but I don’t know the way. And I can’t call a cab because I left my phone and wallet in my room.”

“Just go back?” Keiji says absently. He isn’t even sure he has the mental capacity to comprehend the situation properly. 

They reach his front door and Keiji pats himself down looking for the keys he is sure he put in his pocket before going out. It’s evidently not there right now. There’s a sense of impending doom growing inside him and Bokuto only confirms his suspicions.

“Kuroo has the keys.”

Keiji takes in a deep breath and looks up, hoping some kind of deity will come down and slap him awake from whatever fever dream he is currently living in. He exhales and turns sharply towards Bokuto. 

“Kuroo-san tried to break into my apartment and now he is in jail.” 

“Well, he might not be in jail--” Bokuto tries to reason and Keiji snaps. 

“No way. No. This can’t be happening right now. What kind of _idiot _thinks it’s okay to break into apartments at night. Why does Kuroo-san even know how to pick locks? This is a joke right? Please tell me this is a joke, it feels like a prank. No, this is probably something only the both of you can accomplish.”__

__“Akaashi, I think you just went through four out of five stages of grief.”_ _

__Bokuto looks slightly fearful, eyes big and round. Keiji throws his hands up in surrender._ _

__“You know what, what happened has happened. Let’s just get this over with”_ _

__“And that’s the last stage.”_ _

__::o::_ _

__Keiji contemplates just calling a cab for Bokuto and leaving him to deal with everything, but seeing he doesn’t have his keys either, there is much point in waiting around for the duo to come back. Besides, he does not trust them one bit to go through the whole ordeal and return in one piece._ _

__The ride is awkward but definitely not quiet. Bokuto is determined to have a conversation and Keiji is reluctantly forced to cooperate (more like he does not have the willpower needed to deny his puppy-dog eyes). Soon enough though, he finds himself thoroughly invested in Bokuto’s life._ _

__“You’re a starter in the Division 1 V-league?”_ _

__“Yea! Actually I just became one. I’ve been training with them for a few months already so it was expected. Our team is so cool, Akaashi! We have Hinata Shouyou, Sakusa Kiyoomi and even Suna Rintarou! Our setter used to be an olympic player but he is retiring soon. I heard the new setter trained in Argentina before coming here, but--”_ _

__“Oh no.” Keiji realises something very troubling._ _

__Bokuto cocks his head. “Oh no?”_ _

__“Sorry, it’s nothing. Please continue, Bokuto-san”_ _

__“I told you Akaash, call me Bokuto! Also! You seem to know a lot about volleyball. Do you play?”_ _

__“I used to, in high school. I was a setter.”_ _

__“That is so cool! Kenma and Kuroo used to play too. What a coincidence! Hey, hey! We should play together sometimes!”_ _

__Keiji does not have a chance to decline. The driver pulls up next to the station and Bokuto’s attention is already diverted. Keiji does not carry much money on him while running, so he uses up most of his cash paying for the ride. He hurries after Bokuto, who rushed ahead. By the time he steps in through the glass doors, Bokuto is already at the information counter. The woman manning it is shaking her head gently._ _

__“No Sir, we don’t have records of anyone named Kuroo Tetsurou. Not here or any other station.”_ _

__“Are you sure?” Bokuto sputtered. “He’s like really tall, had a stupid bedhead and looks like a criminal for sure.”_ _

__Keiji almost scoffs but manages to stop himself. The lady, however, looks openly amused._ _

__“Oh, that funny guy? The officers took a liking to him and took him to the staff lounge. I’ll show you the way, please follow me.”_ _

__Clearly Kuroo has managed to charm the law officers into giving him special treatment. Keiji shakes his head as the woman leads them through a series of corridors. Beside him, Bokuto is fidgeting with nervous energy. Laughter carries through the air as they enter the staff lounge._ _

__“Kuroo?” Somehow, even though he speaks loudly, Bokuto’s voice comes out small._ _

__Keiji’s eyes land on a familiar mess of raven hair._ _

__“Bo!” Kuroo exclaims in relief._ _

__He is surrounded by four officers and based on the atmosphere, they seem to be enjoying themselves. Bokuto dashes towards Kuroo, pouncing onto him for a hug that knocks the latter to his butt._ _

__“Bro! You’re okay! I was worried.” Bokuto says, his voice tremulous._ _

__“Bro! You didn’t pick up your phone, so I had such a hard time convincing the officers that I lived there.”_ _

__The disaster duo hug it out on the floor and Keiji watches the entire dramatic spectacle only mildly annoyed. Bokuto really did seem to be anxious during the ride to the station and the smile on Kuroo’s face feels genuine unlike his usual grins and smirks._ _

__Keiji sighs, shifting his weight to his right leg. His skin is sticky from dried sweat and his casual workout shirt and shorts feel inappropriate given the location. The fatigue from his run catches up to him and his body sags with weight. He gives up trying to stand and falls into one of the couches. It’s almost 12am, 2 hours since he had come out for his run, and the weariness rolls off his body in waves._ _

__He leans his head back and closes his eyes as he listens to Bokuto explain the situation to the officers. Of course, his brief moment of peace is interrupted as he hears footsteps stop beside him._ _

__“Hey, you there?” Kuroo’s voice is gentle._ _

__“Physically? Yes. Mentally? Debatable.”_ _

__A pause, and then, “Thanks for coming here,”_ _

__The couch sinks on his right as Kuroo sits. Keiji blinks his eyes open and gives him a quick glance. Kuroo is wearing a simple plain shirt that hugs his figure nicely and the piercing on his ears shine under the fluorescent ceiling lights. He is looking at Keiji with curved lips, not exactly a grin, but not a smile either. It’s confusing so Keiji brings his gaze back to stare straight._ _

__“It’s no problem, Kuroo-san, but I hope you can pay for the ride back because I used all the money I had on me on the way here.”_ _

__Kuroo gives out a humourless laugh. “Well, that’s going to be a problem because I left my wallet at home.”_ _

___God really has abandoned me, _Keiji concludes.___ _

____::o::_ _ _ _

____Kenma has blocked Kuroo’s number after their last conversation. Keiji lets Kuroo use his phone but their brief interaction is fruitless._ _ _ _

____“Hey Kenma, we have a tiny problem--”_ _ _ _

____“No, _you _have a problem. I just have an idiot who keeps causing them. Deal with it yourself.”___ _ _ _

______The line goes flat as Kenma hangs up. Keiji sighs and takes the phone from Kuroo. Kenma is generally more tolerable towards regular people than the Disaster Duo._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Kuroo, I swear to god, if you don’t stop abusing Akaashi’s number--”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Kozume-san, please hear Kuroo-san out.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh god, they got you involved.” Kenma hisses._ _ _ _ _ _

______The image of an angry cat flashes across Keiji’s mind as he hands the phone to Kuroo. Kuroo gives the explanation Keiji has heard so many times and Kenma’s replies sound deadly. Even Bokuto looks appropriately terrified by the murder in his tone. When the call ends, Kuroo turns towards them with a complicated expression._ _ _ _ _ _

______“He should be here in 45 minutes.” He then turns to Bokuto, face turning bleak. “We have 45 minutes to plan our funeral.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bokuto visibly gulps._ _ _ _ _ _

______They’re all still sitting in the staff lounge. The officers have long since vacated, leaving them the only dwellers. Seeing their situation, the lady at the counter allowed them to stay as long as needed, though Keiji is sure that it had less to do with sympathy for their circumstance and more to do with the dashing good looks of his company._ _ _ _ _ _

______The next 40 minutes go by unexpectedly quickly. Keiji is unsure whether it is due to his overwhelming exhaustion, but the antics of the Disaster Duo seem much more amusing up close. He cannot help but grin at their conversation, sometimes contributing with a sarcastic comment or two of his own. The two seem to be encouraged by this and go to even greater lengths to make him laugh. By the time Kenma arrives, Keiji is flushed and barely holding back his chuckles, though the other two grow somber relatively quickly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Kenma! Did not expect you so soon.” Bokuto stammers._ _ _ _ _ _

______Kenma is fuming and the lady who led him to the lounge looks concerned. They somehow manage to make it inside Kenma’s car without Kenma blowing his fuse. Everyone avoids sitting shotgun so Keiji ends up squeezed between Kuroo and Bokuto, who look like they are contemplating spending the night at the station. The commute is uncomfortably silent and Keiji, still drunk on euphoria, tries to break the tension._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Will it be alright to assume that this is relatively normal?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Kenma snickers. “I would have gone insane if it was. But I get why you think that.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s about the learning experience Keiji. Every day is a lesson. Every single event in life gives us a treasure,” Kuroo says, voice somber._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yea! One of the officers gave me his handcuff! ” Bokuto exclaims, and sure enough, his hands are restricted by said handcuff. Keiji makes it a point to ignore him._ _ _ _ _ _

______Kuroo looks Keiji straight in the eye and recites in a grave tone, “Maybe the real treasure is the friends we made along the way.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______There is a pause, a moment as Akaash tries to come up words to convey his level of _done _. He gives up, choosing to lean back and close his eyes, choosing not to reply. On his right Bokuto is a silent and reassuring presence. He leans towards him slightly, angling his body to be more comfortable, and drifts into a light sleep.___ _ _ _ _ _

________::o::_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Keiji only vaguely remembers what happens after that. He remembers climbing stairs and falling into the couch. He remembers Bokuto commenting on his body odour and Kuroo advising him to shower, to which he replied with a glare. He remembers entering his shower nonetheless and ending up on his bed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He remembers Bokuto’s radiant smile, Kuroo’s genuine ones, and Kenma’s hidden ones. He remembers feeling at ease, something he has not felt in a long time. Lying on his bed right before sleep, Keiji remembers wondering this all might not be that bad after all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made to the end! 
> 
> Some trivia:  
> \- Kuroo is looks like a criminal but has the personality of a momma's boy.  
> \- It is unclear if Bokuto has the keys to the handcuffs. They manage somehow.  
> \- It was only twice that Kenma took action after getting angry but they were so terrifying that Kuroo and Bokuto made a pact to never speak of it. 
> 
> Next chapter: Teeth involved, Kuroo is a shameless flirt, Bokuto is bad at hiding his feeling, Akaashi shows the first signs fo his drinking problem.


	3. rated pg for pretty gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo gets his wisdom teeth removed.

It’s a little strange how quickly Keiji adapts. The transition from Keiji avoiding the Disaster Duo like the plague to him joining in on their shenanigans is almost seamless; he would not be able to tell when exactly he resigns himself to sitting between them on the living room couch, watching some sort of animal documentary on a Friday night. 

“Some owls have ear tufts, but these feathers aren’t used for hearing, they’re more about communicating mood.”

Keiji digs his fingers into the bowl of edible cookie dough on his lap. Its sweetness is addictive, but he is stubborn to admit how delicious it is for the sole reason that its creator is none other than the ever smug and aggravating Kuroo. It’s obvious that Kuroo is aware how much Keiji enjoys his baked goods, if his triumphant smirk is anything to go by. Keiji watches the TV screen pointedly, nose pinched and a pout on his lips. 

Meanwhile, on his right, Bokuto is thoroughly engrossed in the documentary. His eyes are wide, and against the lumination of the screen, they appear almost golden. Keiji finds himself slowly getting engrossed into the documentary as well, though he fully knows there are much more important things he should be doing, like organising his material from syllabus week. 

Just as Keiji is about to spiral into thoughts about his coursework, the door slams open and Kenma stalks in, keys in one hand and coffee in the other. He is dressed in a plain button-up and black jeans, though on him, it seems immaculate. Keiji has to physically ensure his jaw has not dropped to the floor in his appreciation of Kenma’s slender and graceful physique. In his brief moment of admiration, he almost misses how Kuroo’s usual arrogant expression gives way to reverence, lips tilted up slightly and eyes bright with fondness. 

Keiji’s heart clenches. 

“Why is Bokuto still awake?” Kenma’s voice drifts from the kitchen as he puts his things on the counter and starts rummaging through the fridge. 

“You’re out of pie and I’m not making anymore ‘til Monday.” Kuroo calls out. 

Kenma peeks his head over the kitchen counter and glares. He drapes his denim jacket onto one of the kitchen stools and takes a seat on the floor between Kuroo and Keiji’s legs. Keiji is suddenly very conscious of his awkward position and how Kenma’s back almost touches his calf. 

“By the way, Kai just told me about a meeting in Saitama, so I won’t be able to drive you guys.”

There is a sharp intake of breath as Bokuto’s attention finally leaves the screen. 

“Kenma, I can’t drive!”

“Take an Uber. Or even better, ask Daishou or Terushima to-”

“Nope. No way.” Kuro interjects, his features already ironed into his usual ones. “The day I ask that slimy bastard for anything is the day I am no longer a Kuroo.”

Kenma sighs. He reaches up to pinch off some of the edible cookie dough from the bowl in Keiji’s lap and jolts up, as if realising his presence for the first time. His eyes catch Keiji’s and Keiji knows he won’t like wherever this is going.

“Akaashi, do you mind driving them to the dentist? Kuroo needs to get his wisdom teeth removed.”

Keiji groans internally. 

_Yes,_ He wants to say. _I do mind. I mind every single second spent with this cocky rascal._

“Not really,” He says instead. “What time?”

Kuroo raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting him to agree. Bokuto is exhilarated. 

“Hells YEA! Akaaa, you’re a life-saver. Daishou and Terushima SUCK.”

::o::

The appointment is at 10, and they arrive barely on time, even though Kenma made them leave before he did, due to Keiji’s unfamiliarity with the neighbourhood. Kuroo is rather calm before the surgery, attempting to charm the dentist even inebriated. In fact, Bokuto is the one radiating nervous energy where he sits, fidgeting constantly, swinging his legs and biting his lips as he looks around the waiting room, trying to distract himself through the hour of waiting. It’s contagious to the point where Keiji finds himself bouncing his legs too, so he decides to intervene. 

“Bokuto-san, he will be fine.”

Bokuto turns to him, brows knit and lips caught between his teeth. “You think so?”

Keiji nods. He is about to return to his work (he prepared his course readings knowing that the waiting time would probably be long) when Bokuto wraps his hand around his. Keiji glances at him questioningly to see his head tilted back to rest against the wall and eyes closed. 

Keiji noticed Bokuto’s liking for physicality from the start, but he failed to realise that maybe it was more than just being a touchy person. Bokuto shows affection through touch and perhaps touch comforts him too. This understanding warms Keiji’s heart for some reason. There is something terribly endearing about Bokuto relying on a person like him for comfort, even though they’d barely known each other for three weeks. All thoughts of productivity vanish and Keiji’s head flood with the sensation of Bokuto’s calloused fingers wrapped around his palm and hanging between the seats. 

::o::

Kuroo’s surgery takes a little more than an hour. 

If Sober Kuroo is annoying, then Severely Inebriated Kuroo is a ginormous pain in the ass. Even with enough drugs in his system to put down a baby elephant, Kuroo makes gallant attempts to charm the pants off the staff, and Keiji is impressed because whatever he is doing, _it seems to be working._

“Did you guys steal my teeth?” Kuroo asks one last time as Bokuto is trying to wrestle him through the door. “I feel like I should be okay with it since you’re such a cutie.”

Keiji rolls his eyes, but ends up biting his tongue when said cutie accompanies them to their car, aiding Bokuto in half-dragging and half-carrying Kuroo’s body. Keiji catches her slipping her name card into the pockets of Kuroo’s jacket through the rear view mirror and can't help but sigh. There has to be a limit to how seductive a person could be under the influence. 

Kuroo is rather compliant on the ride back to the apartment, sleepy and boneless in the back seat where Bokuto is making a fuss about him, crying only on the occasion when Bokuto tells him he can’t have grilled fish. By the time they reach the apartment, Kuroo is on the verge of unconsciousness. 

“Please don’t sleep, Kuroo-san. You might die,” Keiji says, knowing that it would be extremely troublesome to get him up to their apartment if he is asleep.

Bokuto chuckles as Kuroo sits up straight, eyes widening and does his best to appear awake. And then, in one smooth motion, he picks up Kuroo bridal style and walks towards the stairs heading up. 

“Bokuto-san, we should take the elevator. Your apartment is higher than mine.”

Bokuto looks back at him with a crickle in his eyes. “Akaashi, the lift doesn’t work.”

Keiji falters in his steps for a moment. He admittedly feels a bit stupid for not realising, but it can’t be helped since he usually takes the stairs anyway. He walks behind Bokuto, intending on supporting him in case he stumbles, but Bokuto seems almost at ease, considering Kuroo’s tall body cannot be that light. Keiji can see the muscles of his back and arms flex through the tight material of his t-shirt and recalls Bokuto’s status as a professional volleyball player. 

Whatever he expects, Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment is not that. The layout is similar to his and Kenma’s apartment, with the front door opening to the living room and the kitchen but the interior design is a completely different matter. Instead of holding a couch and maybe a coffee table like the norm, the living room contains a single king-sized bed, pushed against the wall and overlooking the narrow balcony. Instead of a TV, a plain white projector sheet hangs on the opposite wall. If that isn’t enough of an abnormality, the sheer number of plants used as decor in the apartment is absolutely dizzying; it looks a bit like a forest. Larger plants are out on the balcony, but smaller plants litter the entire apartment, ranging from palm-sized cacti to ferns that come all the way up to Keiji’s shoulder. Some of them have the regular brown pots, but most of them are ridiculously shaped, as if molded by hand. A lot of them look hand painted as well. 

Keiji is in a daze as he enters. Behind him, Kuroo is whining about needing to drink beer and Bokuto manages to placate him by giving him a glass of apple juice. He manages to get him to finish without spilling and tucks him into the bed. Keiji helps him alleviate his body by stuffing a mountain of pillows under his upper body until he is almost sitting. After they’re done, Bokuto gently runs his fingers through Kuroo’s hair and pats his cheeks before getting up. They make their way to the kitchen for a seat and Keiji’s curiosity gets the best of him. 

“Are the two of you dating?”

Bokuto swings back with a ferocity that has Keiji concerned for his neck muscles. There is an obvious rouge to his cheeks as he fumbles with his words. Keiji mentally slaps himself for his unnecessary candor. 

“What--why would you say that?”

Keiji busies himself searching for food in their fridge. It's packed with food containers and the bottom shelf holds rows and rows of beer and energy drinks. 

“I apologise, Bokuto-san. I didn't mean to assume. The two of you seem unusually close, that’s all.”

Bokuto scratches the back of his head. He accepts the can of beer Keiji offers and fiddles with it in his hands. His blush is still present on his cheeks as he slumps over the kitchen counter, holding the beer can with both his hands. 

_Don’t say anything stupid,_ Keiji thinks to himself.

“Are you in love with Kuroo-san?” he asks. 

_Goddammit._

Bokuto’s grip on the beer can tightens and Keiji is afraid he is going to bust it open with his bare hands. He scrunches up his face as it reddens to resemble a tomato. He seems speechless so Keiji tries his best to defuse the tension. 

“That’s pretty gay, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto looks at him, eyes shining. There’s a split second where Keiji wonders if that joke was too out of character for him and then Bokuto is roaring with laughter. He wheezes, slapping the tabletop loud enough it is a wonder Kuroo is not getting up. As he settles, he wipes stray tears from his eyes. 

“Yea, of course that’s gay. I’m gay. You’re funny, Akaashi.”

“Thank you, I try.”

The silence that follows is painfully awkward. Keiji takes a sip of his beer and Bokuto follows. Keiji tries not to think about his latest discovery.

“Do you think Kuroo is in love with Kenma?” Bokuto breaks the silence, voice unusually small. 

Keiji chugs down the rest of his beer. He tries not to think about the way Kuroo brightens up whenever Kenma enters a room. He tries not to think about how most of Kuroo’s authenticity only surfaces around Kenma. He tries not to think about how Kuroo stares at Kenma when he thinks the other isn’t looking. 

“I don’t think you should ask me that, Bokuto-san.” Keiji answers eventually. “I’ve barely known you guys for a few weeks.”

“You’re right.” Bokuto seems conflicted. “I’m having a feeling. How do I make it stop.”

Keiji fetches both of them another beer can each and demonstrates by chugging down his second one. Bokuto follows his lead. They end up making small talk and fall asleep slumped on the kitchen counter, only to be woken up when Kuroo does, groaning and complaining about everything under the sun. 

“I would like to acknowledge the difficulties of your life” Keiji interrupts, cutting off the slew of complaints.

“Akaashi, I would like you to know you are the worst at the whole comfort thing.”

Keiji ignores him and just focuses on regaining his sight after his afternoon nap. Sunlight streams in from the balcony, illuminating both Bokuto and Kuroo in a golden hue. There is a certain calmness in their usual banter; Keiji can’t help but lazily rest his forehead against the cold tabletop and watch the Disaster Duo become utterly absorbed in their own conversation. 

There’s a sinking feeling in Keiji’s stomach as he realises how much of an outsider he is. He can’t help but feel envious of Kuroo, who receives the affection of two amazing people and still manages to be infuriatingly dense and arrogant. Kuroo is not at fault obviously (in fact Keiji is sure no one is at fault; this isn’t something that can be blamed on another person), but Keiji decides at that moment, whether he is being petty or not, he does not like Kuroo at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell I tried to avoid writing too much about the dentist.  
> Also the documentary is very real: [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfVs91kKI-Y)
> 
> Next Chapter: 
> 
> “Oh shit-hey what’s wrong babe?” 
> 
> “I missed you,”


	4. solitude is the only logical ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING: Homophobia**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **gonna pretend i didn’t just disappear for a few months** Here’s an extra long chapter to make up for it.

Keiji wakes up to the incessant pinging of his phone, signaling texts from a friend. He reaches for his phone and mutes it when he realises it’s none other than Oikawa Tooru. Tooru has a tendency to be over dramatic when it comes to any minor inconvenience and remain quiet about things that may be of actual concern. Seeing that he isn't afraid to disturb Keiji’s precious sleep, it couldn’t be that important. 

Just as he’s about to fall into the lull of sleep again, a shrill ring sends him startling up. He glares at his phone before picking it up, trying to make his voice as venomous as possible while it’s scratchy from sleep. 

“What?” Keiji greets. 

“Ah! Kei-chan. So vicious this late in the morning, but that’s just the way I like you!” Tooru’s high screech is grating to the ear. Keiji’s eye twitches in contempt. 

“Do you have anything important to say or can I hang up.”

Shifting in bed so his free arm hangs off the edge of the bed, Keiji turns his gaze towards the window from where light bathes the room in a bright apricot. It’s the first time in a while he’s been able to sleep in. His classes usually start early in the day, and end early too, and even though he has mostly gotten used to the rough schedule, he plans to take full advantage of his one week break to sleep in as much as possible. Of course, Tooru has to ruin his plans before he even gets time to implement them. 

“Kei-chan, are you listening to me?” 

“No.”

“Rude! All I want is for you to be there for me as a friend.” There’s a slight pause before Tooru continues, his voice soft. “Speaking of, are you going back home for break.”

Keiji shuts his eyes, blocking out the sunlight that suddenly seems too harsh. He takes a deep breath in, painfully aware of the abrupt spike of his heart rate. His ears are ringing and the sheets are too warm. He can feel the prickles of sweat gathering at his nape. Everything is too loud. 

“...Keiji.” Tooru’s voice snaps him out of the noise in his head. 

“Yes,” Keiji croaks, hoping his voice doesn’t come out strangled. If Tooru notices the tremor in his voice, he doesn't point it out. “From wednesday until the end of the weekend. Can’t miss your birthday, can I?”

“You know you don’t have to go back.”

“I know.” 

“Don’t go back. I don’t want you anywhere near that man.” 

“It’s okay, Tooru.” It’s really not. He would rather pull out each of his hairs one by one than go back and have to face his parents. He would rather do anything else than speak to his father again after what he put him through. 

Tooru sighs on the other side of the line, as if contemplating what to say. He doesn’t know the whole story, no one really does, not even himself. So he changes the topic. 

“Are you back in Japan now?”

There’s a pause, Tooru probably considering where to allow the change of topic. He yields at last. “Yep! Just landed last night. I seriously cannot wait to show you this sick tan.”

Tooru launches into a story of the latest happenings in his life and Keiji lets his voice melt into the background, wondering just how he is going to survive the upcoming week. 

::

“Where are you going?” Kenma asks as Keiji is lugging his duffel bag out to the living room on Wednesday. 

He’s leaning on the kitchen island, fingers deep in a jar of jam. Keiji noticed Kenma’s profound dislike for cutlery of any kind very early on in their cohabitation, and it’s one of the things about him that makes his friendship with Bokuto and Kuroo believable. Keiji drops his bag by the door and returns, grabbing a can of beer and taking a seat by the counter. 

“Home for the break,” Keiji answers. “I haven’t really had the chance to meet them after moving out.” 

A quiet silence stretches out as Keiji gulps down beer and Kenma is absorbed in licking the jam from his fingers. Keiji takes the chance to admire his profile. Since Keiji helped take Kuroo to the dentist, Kenma has been less hesitant to approach him to talk. It's delightful, since Keiji enjoys every single one of their interactions, no matter how short. However they also leave him breathless and aching. Kenma is the sort of beautiful that reminds him of early morning dew in the warm rays of sunrise. He radiates silent warmth, a little unexpected considering his distant attitude, but alluring nonetheless. Keiji’s fingers throb with the need to run them along the bridge of his nose, high and sharp, run them through his hair, it’s dark roots and soft pale ends. In the afternoon sun, his hair looks almost golden. He wonders if it would be strange if he asks to braid Kenma’s hair. 

The sound of his phone ringing brings Keiji out of his daze daze. He finishes the last bit of his beer and throws it into the trash. 

“My ride’s here. See you on Sunday, I guess.” Keiji says. 

Kenma nods, fingers still in his mouth. Just as Keiji is shutting the door though, he hears a faint voice calling out after him. 

“Take care.”

::

Kaori’s apartment is a whole 45 minute drive away, but she seems more than delighted to be able to give Keiji a ride. She greets him with a wide, contagious smile, waving her left arm furiously over her head even though Keiji is only a few feet away. She holds her black and white tiger print helmet under her other arm. Keiji gulps.

She snags the duffel bag from Keiji’s shoulder effortlessly, as if it weighs as much as feathers, and dumps it on the carrier of her bulky motorcycle. Then, without giving him a chance to steel his heart, she shoves his head into the helmet. They're riding off before Keiji even has a chance to greet her back. 

Kaori is anything but gentle as she speeds along roads and highways. It’s a 2 hour journey but she aims to finish the trip in 30 minutes less. He isn't a fan of fast rides, but even he gets desensitised after the first 15 minutes. They reach his neighbourhood just as the sun is dropping under the skyline, colouring everything in a pale orange hue. 

They made a few stops along the way, but Keiji’s butt is still sore. When they park a few houses away from his own, he feels his joints crack as he lifts himself off Kaori’s bike and stands on shaky legs. Kaori cracks her back, giving Keiji time to loosen his own taut muscles. A heavy silence hangs between them. Kaori speaks up. 

“You can stay with me tonight, tell them you reached too late at night.”

A shiver runs down Keiji’s spine. It’s hard to tell if it’s the cool wind of his own thoughts. “It’s fine,”

Kaori nods, knowing not to question him on his decisions. They walk hand in hand to Keiji’s door. Kaori gives him one last look, an offer to change directions, to head elsewhere. He lifts his mouth into what he hopes is a reassuring smile and Kaori takes the cue to ring the doorbell. 

The suspense is thick and suffocating, but thankfully it doesn't take long before he hears the familiar pattering of footsteps. The door swings open and Kimiko stands on the other side, face alight in a contagious smile. 

“Nii-san!” There’s no warning as she jumps into Keiji’s arms. “I didn't know you were coming back!”

Keiji stumbles back from the sudden weight, but manages to catch himself. He chuckles and messes up Kimiko’s hair. Another pair of feet approach them, and Keiji’s mother stands behind the door. 

“Keiji?”

Akaashi Hikari is a small, delicate-featured woman, somewhat fragile but intelligent in expression. Keiji grew up knowing her as a fearless lawyer but ever since Kimiko was born, she gave up her career in favour of taking care of her. Now, she is the picture of homely comfort, soft fabric around her waist and hair framing her face in gentle curves. The pleasant surprise on her face almost overshadows the apprehension. 

“I didn't know you were coming back.” 

_Or did you not want me coming back?_

“I texted Father, guess it might have slipped his mind.”

It’s difficult, but Keiji manages to keep his voice steady. Kimiko finally separates from him and drags Kaori into a hug. 

“Are you staying for dinner?”

::

By the time Keiji and Kaori deposit their things into his old room (dusty and cluttered with things from around the house, as if it was being used as a storage space) and freshen up, Akaashi’s father has returned from work. The table has been set, and he sits at the head with an air of authority. Like his spouse, Akaashi Noritaka is also a successful lawyer well respected in his community. 

Keiji takes a seat opposite him, with Kaori sliding into the seat on his right. Despite her enthusiasm, Kimiko was sent to her room for the night. On his left, his mother serves the food stiffly. 

The tension is palpable. 

It’s mostly silent throughout the meal, with the occasional polite conversation initiated by Kaori. Keiji can’t find it in himself to start one. Perhaps his silence was enough of an offense that his father could not restrain himself any longer. 

“So Keiji, have you finally gotten over your phase?” He asks, tone dripping disdain. 

“What phase?” Keiji answers innocently as he picks at his food. He can barely taste it thanks to the heaviness in this throat. 

His father bristles, agitated. “Your phase of kissing up to faggots. Surely, that's the reason you came back.”

“Taka, not now.” Keiji’s mother interrupts. 

_Then when?_ Keiji catches himself wondering as silence falls over the table again. 

It wasn’t always like this, he is sure. He clearly remembers when his father used to smile during dinner, laugh and tell jokes. He remembers his mother used to berate him for his table manners and setting a bad example for Keiji and Kimiko. Keiji was always reserved, even as a child, but even then he recalls being able to converse with them freely, without the air suffocating him and without his limbs feeling like lead and without the pressure in his throat. 

It wasn’t always like this, and what Keiji wouldn't give to return things to how it was before. 

Dinner ends as a formal affair. Keiji feels too numb to care, his appetite long gone. Kaori is the one who leads him up the stairs, and into bed. His exhaustion is bone-deep and he barely notices as Kaori tucks herself beside him and runs her hands through his hair soothingly. He squeezes her tight and falls into a dreamless sleep. 

The next few days pass in a similar manner; heavy silences, clipped words and shallow conversations. Keiji spends his days entertaining Kimiko (though his mother keeps an eye on their activities for any kind of suspicious behaviour) and catching up with old friends. 

Konoha and Washio drag him out drinking but he manages to out-drink both of them. He has to carry their drunk asses out of the bar and into separate taxis. 

Takahiro has him run errands for Tooru’s ‘welcome back’ party and Keiji ends up meeting the old aunties who used to give him free onigiri after school. 

Tooru is busy with his own work (being a pro-volleyball player leaves him with very little free time, fortunately) so Keiji doesn’t have to suffer through spending time with him any more than necessary. Kaori makes up for it by coming over to his house whenever possible. Keiji suspects it's more for him than for Kimiko. 

At last, Saturday arrives and Tooru is pleasantly surprised by the party they planned right under his nose. For once, his theatrical acts of self-entitlement hold some elements of genuine fondness and Keiji wonders just how Argentina treated him the past few years for him to be so nostalgic. 

By the time Tooru finishes catching up with everyone and finally settles beside him on the couch, it’s way past 12am and Keiji has lost count of the number of drinks he has drowned.

“Hey, I’ve been dying to talk to you.” Tooru whispers into his ears. 

Keiji chuckles at the fond memories the words evoke. Those were the exact words Tooru used to hit on him the first time they met. 

“Then die,” he replies coolly to reenact his reaction. 

He catches Tooru’s eyes and it takes only a moment before both of them break down snickering. The alcohol has made Keiji’s body heavy and mind light, so he leans sluggishly against Tooru. It’s been a while since he has felt Tooru up close and something about having him physically present brings him to tears. 

“Oh shit-hey what’s wrong babe?” Tooru asks, flustered. 

“I missed you,” Keiji says, voice barely over a whisper. 

It’s so much more than that really, but Keiji doesn’t have the words to explain it. Besides, he knows Tooru knows what he means -- he always does. Keiji isn’t the type to cry and Tooru isn’t the type to comfort, so Keiji sniffles quietly and Tooru holds him awkwardly. They make it work somehow and by the time the clock hits one, Keiji is fast asleep. 

::

Suzumeda doesn't hide her worry when she approaches him. She looks worn out, and the lines on her face make her seem much older than she is. 

“Ri-chan! If you worry so much, the frown lines on your face might become permanent.” Oikawa voices out. 

She rolls her eyes and takes a seat on the bean bag beside him. 

“Was he crying?” She gestures to Keiji. 

Oikawa nods, unsure of how to elaborate. Knowing Keiji, it probably has a lot to do with Mr. and Mrs. Akaashi, but Oikawa only has a muddy picture of his circumstances considering the fact that he was overseas the past 2 years. He looks towards Suzumeda, hoping she has some answers. 

“His dad’s the same as ever. I’ve lost count of the number of times he referred to Keiji in third person,” She sighs, running her fingers through her hair. “And the mother is no better. She tried to keep Kimiko away from him; bet she thinks homosexuality is contagious.” 

“Why isn’t he staying with you? Or me? Or anyone else?”

“You think I know? Anyone would want to be as far away from their family as possible if they went through what he did.” A pause and then, “He loves them too much.”

 _Keiji always loves people with his whole being._ Oikawa wants to say. 

Instead he looks away, “What exactly did he do?”

He doesn’t see the expression on her face but the pain in her voice is unmistakable. 

“The worst thing you could do to your son after he comes out to you.”

::

They leave town as soon as Keiji wakes up. He barely has time to wash his face before Kaori is shoving his bags at him and pushing him out the door. He manages a hasty goodbye to Kimiko (both his parents are coincidentally absent from the house even though nothing should be occupying them so late in the morning, especially on a Sunday) before Kaori jams his head into a helmet and they're off.

The ride back feels shorter somehow. The afternoon heat is harsh and Keiji is soaking with sweat by the time the bike turns into his driveway. 

“Makki wants you to hurry up and send him the pictures from last night,” Kaori’s voice is muffled through the helmet. 

Keiji raises an eyebrow as he swings his bag onto his shoulder. “I didn’t take any pictures.”

Kaori snorts and revs up her bike. “As if he needs you to approve before he uses your camera.” She makes a sharp turn and drives away, raising her arms in farewell, looking too cool to be completely fair.

Keiji waits for her bike to disappear around the corner before making his way up to his apartment. He can hear the Disaster Duo before he sees them, and the mouth watering smell of baked goods reaches his nose.

“Bro, give up. We both know I would pull more than you.”

“Dude, that’s so rude. If you thought you were half as hot as you think you are, you would be twice as hot as you are now.”

“You do realise that none of that made any sense to me whatsoever right?”

Keiji gives up waiting for them to finish their argument and barges in. Inside, Kuroo, dressed only in a pair of shorts and an apron that says ‘kiss the chef’, is wiping down the kitchen counter while Bokuto is lying face down on the floor. Keiji decides not to question it, as he has learnt to do when it concerns Bokuto. 

“Kuroo-san, if you must know, I think he meant that your arrogance puts a heavy dent on your attractiveness and you would be oh so much more charming with your mouth shut.” Keiji says as greeting.

Kuroo’s head snaps towards him. After a brief moment, his usual aggravating smirk graces his face. “Ouch. Now that, I did get.” 

In contrast, Bokuto is absolutely thrilled. He does a smooth roll and lands on his feet. Before Keiji has a chance to marvel at the brilliant display of athleticism, Bokuto is squeezing him into a crushing embrace. “Akaaash! Welcome Back! Kenma said you went to your parents’ for the week. How was it? Do you have siblings? Do they look like you? I have 2 brothers and we’re so different that it’s a bit hard to tell that we’re related!”

Keiji taps his shoulder to get him to release his grip and check for any broken bones while trying to get air into his lungs again. He wants to give Bokuto a dirty look for forcing him into prolonged physical contact without consent, but the smile on his face is too radiant and innocent to warrant anything but a smile back. 

“Bokuto-san, please mind your strength when giving me a hug. I could’ve broken a rib.”

Bokuto just laughs, “Haha! Don’t worry, that wasn’t hard enough to break an adult’s ribs!”

 _The wording of that sentence is worrying._

“Why don’t you go wash up? I baked some pies. Kenma should be up any moment now so we can eat them together.” Kuroo suggests while taking off his apron. 

Keiji wants to give a deadpan look expressing a fair amount of his distaste for Kuroo but instead he respectfully averts his gaze from his shirtless body. He shrugs and heads to his room. He isn’t as annoyed as he wants to be and that fact irritates him even more. 

Once he discards his bags in his rooms and changes into comfortable clothes, he feels much more relaxed than he has for days. The smell of freshly baked apple pie is almost sinfully tempting and Keiji finds himself just a little too enthusiastic. Kenma is already slumped at the kitchen counter, eyes half open and sleep lines clearly visible across his cheeks. Keiji wants to lick them. 

_What the fuck._

He takes the seat farthest from Kenma and reflects silently. Kuroo notices him and hands him a plate with a slice of apple pie. He digs in, ignoring the fact that Kuroo looks like a cat who managed to trap a rat (no way would he be the rat in that analogy). Bokuto slides into the seat between him and Kenma. His plate is heaped with at least 4 slices of pie. Opposite them, Kuroo eats straight from the pan and watches over them like some kind of domestic god. 

No one speaks a word, but the table is anything but silent. Bokuto, mouth stuffed shut with pie, is gesturing animatedly to convert the utter deliciousness of the pie to Kuroo. The latter is communicating back, though more mockingly than needed. Kenma, on the other hand, is absolutely enamoured with his slice of pie and is eating it with such reverence that Keiji suspects he might start crying soon. His lungs fill with warmth and homely air. He might start crying too. 

Alas, having two uncharacteristic moments of weakness in one chapter would be too dramatic, so Keiji sucks it up and eats his pie (expressing only the faintest amount of annoyance). These people may be the epitome of homely and welcoming, but no doubt if he interferes with their dynamic, things would turn south sooner than later. He has a knack for that, after all. Resigned, Keiji finishes his pie, cleans up his plate and retreats to his room quietly, making it a point not to meet Kuroo’s questioning gaze as it follows him. Nothing good would come out of trying to play friends with these people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> **Bonus: A short conversation while Akaashi is getting dressed.**
> 
> Kenma: Did Akaashi just come back?  
> Kuroo: Yep! And my superior baking skills convinced him to eat pie with us.  
> Kenma: ohokay  
> Bokuto: ?  
> Kuroo: ??  
> Bokuto: ???  
> Kenma: ...what?  
> Bokuto: Usually you would’ve thrown a tantrum about having to share your pie with someone. You barely let me eat it.  
> Kenma: I do not throw tantrums.  
> Kuroo: Do too.  
> Kenma: Do not.  
> Kuroo: Do too.  
> Kenma: Do not.  
> Kuroo: Do too.  
> Kenma: Do not.  
> Kuroo:  
> Kenma:  
> Kuroo: Do too.  
> Kenma: Do not.  
> ~end~
> 
> Next chapter: Akaashi makes some stupid decisions, Kenma is a good roommate, Kaori has a surprise.


	5. idiot infestation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the resident mother goose, Suzumeda Kaori.

Keiji knows that college is supposed to be difficult but he expects to have time to ease into it. He expects that a former straight A student such as himself would have no trouble keeping up with the standard curriculum. He expects that without the distraction of clubs and other social commitments, he would have plenty of time to dedicate to his studies. 

What he doesn’t expect is the sudden influx of assignments and project deadlines projected up to three months in advance shoved into his face. No, the increase in workload isn’t gradual at all and his willingness to accept extra credit does not help at all. A few weeks after the end of his week-long break, Keiji finds himself struggling. It becomes obvious enough that Kaori has to check up on him. 

“Keiji, I don’t want to say you’re being an idiot but you are. Who in their right mind doubles their course load in the first semester, you dumbass!”

“I was okay up until now. Besides, It’s more common than you’d think.”

“Yea, common for easier majors, not for a freaking architecture major, you absolute moron.”

So far, Kaori has already managed to call him stupid in at least ten different ways and the longer their conversation goes on, the longer the list of insults gets. 

“I read ahead during the free time I had, it’ll be fine.” Keiji insists, though his argument sounds weak even to his own ears. 

“Ugh, why are you so goddamn stubborn! I can tell from your voice how tired you are. You purposely didn’t call me the last four days.”

Keiji bristles. He knew Kaori meant well with her concern, but it felt a lot like he was being babysat. He rushes to end the conversation before he gets even more irritated. “Okay, mom. I’ll take better care of myself.”

“Yea, yea sure. If you don’t call me back with good news, I’m going to go over there and beat some sense into you myself, you jerk.” Kaori says, not sounding convinced as she hangs up. 

Keiji sighs as he leans forward to rest his head on his desk. It’s only nine, but his eyes feel heavy with weariness and the need to sleep. Conversation and laughter drift in through the thin walls of his room. Apparently his neighbours had been holding back the last few times they were over, because Keiji can hear almost everything as they bicker in Kenma’s room over who won the last game of Mario Kart (how is that something you have to fight over? Isn’t it decided by the race itself? What in the world....).

Keiji sighs and gets back to finishing his readings for the next day. He tries to ignore the noise, however, it starts to grate at his nerves and amplify the throbbing in his head. He gives up eventually, getting up and making his way to Kenma’s door. He raps on the door with his knuckles, sagging as he leans his weight on the door frame. His body feels too heavy to stand straight.

“Oya? What’s up.” Kuroo greets while opening the door, a smirk dancing on his lips and face lit with slight amusement. 

_Close..._

Over Kuroo’s shoulder, the chatter dies down as Bokuto and Kenma look towards him. Bokuto is cross legged on the floor, controller in hand and a tower made of empty beer bottles in front of him on the verge of toppling. There is a flush to his cheeks that give away his intoxication. Kenma, on the other hand, is splayed out on the bed, cocooned in blankets. A thought flashes through Keiji’s head, quick, sensual, very very vexing, and he shuts it down hard, but can’t fight the shame of thinking something he should not be thinking of. 

“Kuroo-san, I would really appreciate it if you could keep your voice down. Some people have a regular schedule.” 

Keiji does not expect his voice to come out as sharp as it does, and from the way Kuroo’s eyebrow cock upwards, he does not expect it either. He lets go of the door and leans in with his other arm resting on the door frame. Keiji takes a small step back, realising the lack of space between them. 

“We’ll keep it down, sorry about that,” Kuroo answers, though he doesn’t look that apologetic. “You okay though?”

The question flares another bout of irritation but Keiji does his best to remain impassive, though his reply ends up sounding a little too defensive for his liking. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Kuroo does not grace him with a reply, only giving a nonchalant shrug. Keiji can feel the beginning of a frown pull down on his lips, so he turns to walk away, slamming the door to his room lightly behind him, trying not to think about why he feels guilt rising in his gut like bile. 

::o::

There are days the tiredness comes in both forms, physical and mental. By the time Friday rolls around, Keiji’s body is exhausted to the core, muscles cramped from sitting at his desk for hours and hours, head throbbing from a lack of sleep and all he wants to do after returning from class is drop dead on his bed. Yet, his mind is whirring, its motion trapped in the confines of his own skull. His body needs rest, yet his mind needs it to move, go for a jog, do any kind of physical labour to burn the anxiety right out. He wonders if what he needs to do is knock himself out on some vodka. He decides to just lay on his bed like a dead starfish.

A shrill ringing brings him out of his pool of dramatic self-pity. It takes him just a second to place the sound as the doorbell. It is understandable though, since no one actually uses it. Bokuto and Kuroo always text Kenma before coming over so that he can open the door for them, or sometimes the door remains unlocked. Besides, looking at the time, they should already be camping out in Kenma’s room. Keiji himself has never had the need to ring the doorbell either so it makes sense for him to not know the sound. 

He hears footsteps (too loud to be Kenma) from Kenma’s room as someone goes to open the door. For some reason, his mind flashes back to his conversation with Kaori and he shoots up to his elbows, his mouth going dry.

_She wouldn't…_

There is a pool of dread growing in his stomach as footsteps approach his room, followed by a few swift knocks on his door. He drags himself up, trying to retain his grip on reality as he inched the door open, peeking out with unchecked trepidation. He schools his expression back into neutrality when he sees Kuroo outside his door, looking uncharacteristically awkward. Behind him is an awfully familiar blonde ponytail. Keiji screams internally. 

“Hey, Akaashi. Um...someone is here for you?” Kuroo voices. 

If the situation was any different, Keiji might have revelled in the uncertainty in Kuroo’s voice, rejoiced in the fact that he finally discovered something to unnerve him, yet he could hardly pay attention to that as the figure behind Kuroo bounds forward and launches herself into Keiji’s arms. 

“Keiji! I haven’t seen you for so long, and your hair is so long now!”

Keiji makes strangled noise at the back of his throat as he stumbles backwards from her jump. Using the momentum, he spins them around her and puts her down behind him. He turns back to Kuroo with a grimace and nods grimly before shutting the door, not missing the confusion in his scrunched brows. He finds Kaori sitting on the edge of his bed, looking comfortable already. He sighs.

“It’s almost twelve, Kaori. What are you doing here?”  
Her gaze is piercing, and Keiji feels small standing in front of her, even though she is sitting on the bed. 

“I told you; if you don’t get your shit together, I was going to come here myself.” Her voice is a somber contrast to her earlier. 

“I do have my shit together.”

Kaori gives him an exasperated look. “Then what is this?”

She gestures around the room. His laundry pile is completely on the floor at the corner of the room, with smaller articles scattering around. The desk is heaped with cardboard scraps and an unfinished beginner model. The rejects lie on the floor, where it was stepped over by him numerous times and bent beyond recognition. The rest of the floor space is taken over by papers and worksheets he didn’t have the time to put away neatly. Keiji can’t recall when his room had become such a mess but he does remember the unmotivation he feels to clean whenever he thinks about it. 

“It’s just a little messy now, I'll clean it up soon.”

Kaori stands up from the bed, face flushed with restrained rage. “This is not just any little mess! Keiji, I know you. Even a single book out of place bothers you to no end. You can't expect me to believe you’re doing just fine!”

Keiji’s head throbs with an oncoming headache. He matches his volume with Kaori when he argues back. 

“I need you to believe that! I’ve fallen behind 2 years of my life Kaori. I need to catch up. You know how important this is to me.” He has no idea what _this_ could entail.

“Of course I do. I'm just looking out for you.” 

Keiji scoffs, turning away to pace by the bed. “Gee, thanks mom. Maybe do that after you get your own shit together?”

He falters in his steps with his words, knowing he hit a bit too low. There is a moment of silence before Kaori is grabbing his arm, making him turn towards her forcefully. 

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” Kaori yells. 

“And I’m trying to avoid it!” Keiji retorts, raising his voice as well. 

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if. You. Just. listened!” 

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you stopped babying me! As if you _need_ to shove it in my face that I can barely function like a normal person!” 

“What? I do this because I care. Don’t blame your daddy issues on me!”

Both of them were shouting now. Keiji glares at Kaori, breathing heavy and blood thrumming, and Kaori glares back, her pants breaking the odd silence sitting heavy in the room. 

Keiji looks away first, knowing he is in the wrong, but too prideful to admit it. He has enough sense to understand fighting helps nothing. He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, wishing he knew what to do.

“You had a long ride here. You’re tired, I’m tired. It would be better to talk tomorrow, when we both are rested. Take the bed. Clean clothes are in my wardrobe and extra toiletries under the sink.” Keiji looks down to see Kaori blinking tears away from her eyes. 

They don't usually fight, but when they do, it's Kaori who usually apologises. It’s strange to see her cry when her usually brashness makes her to be someone strong and untouchable. Keiji taps her shoulder gently as he exits, the slam of the door significantly less gentle. 

He knows, damn right knows he is being stubborn. However, Kaori doesn't understand what it feels like to have time pass by in a blink of an eye, doesn’t understand what it feels like to wake up from a haze only to find out he lived 2 years without actually living. A shudder rolls down his spine when splintered memories resurface and he breathes in deeply to drive it away. 

He makes his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge for the beer. When Kenma asked for his preference he said he only needed one shelf and currently, all that shelf holds is rows of beer and energy drinks and one box of leftover chinese food from the last time he had takeout. He sweats at the thought of Kaori finding her way to the kitchen. He can almost hear the reprimand he would get for his pathetic diet. 

Kenma’s part of the fridge, on the other hand, is usually full courtesy of Kuroo. That man is a domestic god if Keiji has ever seen one and from what he has gathered, in charge of both Kenma and Bokuto’s daily nutritional needs. He packs the fridge with fruits, vegetables and apple juice and comes over every other day to use their kitchen to bake. Keiji doubts he would be thrilled at his diet either.

_It’s not like I even care what he thinks._

Keiji shuts the fridge door and drags himself over to the couch to retire for the night. Sleep doesn’t fine him though, so he ends up counting the cracks in the ceiling plaster. And every time he loses count, he starts over and over and over. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays that way. Sometime in the middle of the night he hears a door creak open. Thinking it to be Kaori, he sits up. Instead Kenma shuffles into the living room with a blanket over his shoulders and a mug in hand. He freezes like a deer in headlights when his eyes catch Keiji’s eyes. 

“Uh, hi.” Kenma says plainly. 

He doesn’t wait for a response before heading to the fridge and refilling his mug with apple juice. 

His cat-like eyes turn to Keiji again. “Want some?” 

Keiji is about to decline when his stomach growls awkwardly; He didn’t eat dinner. He shrugs and makes his way to the kitchen counter. Kenma pours him a glass and they both sit and drink silently. Kenma looks hesitant.

“You can go back if you want.” Keiji says. From his knowledge the only thing Kenma could be doing at this hour is playing video games. 

Kenma shakes his head a little too quickly, but Keiji lets it go. Kenma didn’t seem like the kind of person to do things unwillingly. Keiji wished he would stop worrying at his lips though; the sudden shyness did things to his heart. 

“Are you stressed?” Kenma asks finally. 

Keiji ponders seriously. “I’m really not sure. I thought I was doing fine but apparently not.” He says finally, gesturing towards his room where Kaori was sleeping. 

Kenma nods in understanding. “When I get stressed I like to play games.” 

“Oh, is that why you’re playing now?”

“No, I just wanted to finish this game so I can review it. It’s part of my job, I guess.”

“Don’t people usually do things that are not their job to read from their job?” Keiji asks, genuinely intrigued.

“Yeah, I’d play a different game to destress. The one I’m playing now is more of a grind than for relaxing.” 

There's a light pause, and then. “Do you want to play with me?”

::o::

Somehow, Keiji ends up on Kenma’s bed after agreeing to watch Kenma play instead of participating, a thin blanket draped over his shoulders as well. Kenma settles on the floor in a bundle, a feat in itself because there is barely any floor space in his room that isn’t covered with equipment. 

Beside his TV, the entire floor space is taken up by filming equipment and light stands. The game console is crowded with stacks of CDs and Kenma’s table isn't any better. His PC can barely be seen through the stack of papers and CDs on his desk. 

“Why don’t you use the living room to game? It seems a bit cramped here.”

Kenma doesn’t look at him when he speaks.”It gets loud sometimes, I wouldn’t want to disturb you.” 

Keiji is awfully touched but has to retrain himself from face-palming himself. 

_What would he do if he knew that the walls are paper thin._

“You wouldn’t be disturbing me. In fact, it’s probably better that way.” 

Kenma nods and then goes on to explain the basics of this game to give Keiji context. It follows a pretty standard ‘level up and hunt’ narrative where the final objective for Kenma’s avatar (a cute, little witch) seems to be to defeat a demonic entity bent on destroying the island they reside in. 

A silent calm settles over both of them as Keiji watches Kenma play through the game with ease. It goes a little too fast for Keiji to follow, but once he gets used to it, he finds himself offering Kenma some strategic advice which he takes in stride. The gameplay is simple but the changing scenery and narrative keeps Keiji interested. At some point he drifts off, feeling warmer and more comfortable than he has in weeks. 

::o::

A loud ‘clunk’ startles Keiji awake. He looks up blearily to see Kenma carrying some equipment with a guilty look on his face. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I dropped my controller.”

It takes Keiji some time to process the fact that he is in fact in Kenma’s room, in his bed, taking up space where Kenma should have been sleeping. 

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep,” He starts in a frenzy.

_I messed up i messed up i messed up—_

Kenma goes to reassure him immediately, as if he could hear his thoughts. “No, it's okay. I wasn’t planning on sleeping anyways. I wanted to finish up that game as soon as possible.”

Keiji nods, but the guilt doesn’t dissipate. As he moves to get out the bed, Kenma speaks up again. 

“You could hear everything right?”

Keiji tilts his head questioningly.

“You could hear us when Kuroo and Bokuto came over.” Kenma clarifies. 

Keiji averts his gaze and gathers up the bedsheets into his arms. “Uh, yea..”

Kenma nods. “I could hear you too. Last night. I might have unintentionally eavesdropped.” 

Keiji doesn’t know what to say. He continues to make the bed as Kenma continues. 

“Sometimes it feels like everyone is moving ahead so fast and you need to keep up with them right? You don't though. Taking it easy and setting your own pace doesn't make you less capable. It makes you adaptable and flexible.” 

Kenma fiddles with the game from the night before. “Even here: the bad guys exist all the time, you can try to fight the demon at any point. But you won’t be able to win because you have not levelled up enough. I think it’s the same in real life. Just because you can't overcome something does not mean that you are a failure. It just means you need a bit more time to level up.” 

Keiji finishes making the bed, so he pretends to straighten the sheets as Kenma continues. 

“You know I dropped out of college right?”

Keiji looks up. 

“I’ve never been that good at studying, but college made me realise how much I didn’t want an ordinary job. I know for a fact that I’m not a failure now, so it can only mean that maybe the path I was on before wasn’t really for me.”

Kenma meets Keiji’s eyes. 

“Make your own definitions for success and failure, the ones created by society are full of shit. You don’t need a degree by 24 to be considered successful.”

::o::

Keiji finds Kaori in his room, shifting through the junk and attempting to organise. She raises her eyebrows as he enters. 

“Please just leave it” He says, flushing lightly. “Would you like to go for a walk? There’s a dog park nearby.”

“Sure, but I’m dressing you.”

It’s early enough that the sun’s heat is not yet bothersome. Kaori links up their arms as they walk towards the park and Keiji is grateful. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“I’m sorry for yelling too.” Keiji doesn't have to look at Kaori to know she’s smiling.

“My roommate heard us yesterday.”

Kaori grimaces, “Well, shit.”

“It’s alright, he’s not the type to judge. Besides, he said some things I think I needed to hear.”

Keiji tells her about Kenma’s adorable analogy. She listens close with her lip upturned. 

“So all my nagging didn’t do shit but a few words from your cute roommate and your changing your entire world view, huh.”

There is a modest little children’s playground just before the dog park and they both take seats at the swing sets. 

“It’s not that dramatic Kaori, I’m just reconsidering a little part of my life.” Keiji rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t deny him being cute.”  
Keiji groans and hides his face in his hands. Beside him, Kaori snickers. 

“Aww, Keiji has a crush!”

‘Crush’ feels like such an infantile word, one used to belittle young love. Yet Keiji can’t deny his fondness for the little blond in his apartment, with his darting eyes and subtle grace. Perhaps it’s not love, but it does make his heart clench and eyes wonder.

Keiji huffs out a breath and attempts to change the subject. 

“So, anyway, I’ll be writing to my professors. I’ll probably drop some of the extra credits and focus on my coursework instead.”

“Some?” 

He narrows his eyes. “Yes, some. This is a compromise not acceptance.” 

“Fine.” Kaori wrinkles her nose. “You’re always so calm about everything, and you mistake it for a readiness to take on more, to deal with more. Maybe once it was. Not anymore though ”

“I know. Now I'm just exhausted and subdued,” Keiji whispers.

“It’s progress as long as you realise it.” 

They sit in silence for a few moments before Kaori springs up. 

“And that is the end of my intervention!” She says in cheer, stretching up her arms above her head.

Keiji raises his eyebrows.“Now that I’ve stopped being an idiot?”

“No, you’ll always be an idiot. You’re an idiot, I’m an idiot. We are co founders of the idiot club!” 

“Guess my place is an idiot infestation then.” He chuckles, feeling. 

Kaori looks back at him, eyes glinting.“You said it, not me. Let’s head back, I’m starving.”

Keiji heaves himself up and takes Kaori’s hands in his. “Sure, I can’t wait for you to leave.” He says, grinning.

Kaori shoves him playfully. “Nope! You haven’t properly introduced me to your roommates.” 

Keiji’s smile slips right off. “Kaori, no.”

It’s Kaori’s turn to grin and she does so manically. “Kaori, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not that happy with this chapter but i didn't know how to change it :< feedback is always appreciated!
> 
>  **Next chapter:** Kaori is the embarrassing relative, Bokuto just wants to get to know everyone better, Kuroo has a bargaining chip, Kenma is cute, and Keiji is suffering.


	6. too tired to entertain little boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaori meets the housemates

The occupants of the living room look up simultaneously as Keiji and Kaori enter the apartment. Kuroo arms stop kneading at the dough before him, Bokuto’s eyes widen comically and Kenma’s upward glance lasts a little more than 5 seconds before he brings his attention back to his handphone. 

“Welcome back, Akaashi; you look a little… different?” Kuroo asks hesitantly. 

Bokuto bounces out from his seat at the kitchen counter, eyes shining. “He means you look really hot!”

Kaori snorts and pushes past Keji. “It’s because I dressed him. Keiji has no sense of style.”

From the couch, Kenma nods. Keiji flushes. 

“I just prefer not to waste my time with vanity.”

Kaori dismisses him with a wave of her hands. Grinning brightly, she addresses the two men by the kitchen. “Hello! You must be the infamous neighbours!”

Keiji rushes forward to make the introductions before Kaori can embarrass him further. 

“Kuroo-san, Bokuto san this is Suzumeda Kaori, my…” He hesitates. Kaori is family but it feels strange to make such a bold admission. “ She’s a close friend of mine. Kaori, these are my neighbours. Kenma is my roommate.” 

Kenma blinks in greeting. He has changed from his nightwear and is lounging on the couch in casual sweats and a shirt. In front of him, the TV stand sees the addition of his gaming console, a brief reminder of their conversation the previous night. 

Keiji takes the lapse in conversation to escape to his room and change into something more comfortable. He can hear Kaori delve right in with the chatter, and presses his hands into his eyes as if to will away an impending headache. Kaori’s nosy personality seems to be an ideal match for the Disaster Duo. The fact that they may actually get along better than he wants them to fires an urge to dig a hole and hibernate. 

When he heads back out, everyone is settled around the kitchen counter (due to the lack of an actual dining table) and Kuroo is pouring out juice into glasses. He crooks an eyebrow at his outfit change. 

“Aw, you changed out? You looked so cute.”  
Keiji spares him half a glance. “Didn’t ask.”

He takes a seat between Kaori and Kenma at the edge of the counter, content that he can slip away at the first signs of escape. Bokuto is animatedly retelling a story from his childhood, one about his pet bird flying away only to return with a mate. 

Kuroo joins them, lips pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “Kaori, you should tell us about Keiji. He barely talks to us.” Something mischievous glints in his eyes. “Hmm, maybe something embarrassing to break the ice?”

Keji sends him a withering glare but the bastard isn't even looking at him. He is so confident in his trust in Kaori that he has to do a double take when Kaori appears to be pondering over the question. 

“Kaori, no-”

“Something embarrassing huh? Well, Keji doesn’t know how to ride a bike.”

Keji groans internally but refuses to let the horror of the betrayal show on his face. Beside Kaori, Bokuto makes a loud exclamation of surprise. 

“What? We should teach him!”

Keiji narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to say _no way_ when Kenma looks up from his game, apparently paying attention to the conversation at the table. 

“I think I have a bike lying around.” 

_Well._

Beside him, Kaori snickers under her breath. 

“That’s not too bad though; Bokuto doesn’t know how to swim.” Kuroo says.

“I totally do!” Bokuto denies, sounding offended. 

Kenma scoffs. “Don't even try to lie. Last time we went swimming, you almost drowned.”

“Ah, yes. That was fun” 

“Kuroo, you think me drowning was _fun_?”

“Don't be dramatic, you just swallowed some water.”  
Bokuto pouts. “Yea, just a few gallons. That’s completely normal.”

The oven rings, and as Kuroo takes out the trays, the smell of lasagna fills the kitchen. Keiji’s mouth waters at the sight and he has to reign in the compliments so that he doesn’t encourage Kuroo’s ginormous ego. 

“Looks good, Kuroo! You should have let me help, we would be done much earlier. I’m starving!” Bokuto cheers. 

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “Bokuto I love you from the bottom of my heart but the day I let you help in the kitchen is the day you know I’ve gone senile.”

“A better gauge of your senility would be when you stop cooking things with so much dairy,” Keiji comments. He pulls at his lasagna, watching as the cheese strings out for an impossibly long period of time, just to prove his point. 

Bokuto’s eyes widen in amusement. “I didn’t take you to be the health-conscious type, Akaashi!”

“I have a feeling he’s just saying that to question my methods,” Kuroo muttered. 

“I’m not questioning it, I’m saying its stupid.” 

“What’s stupid?” Kaori interrupts. 

Keiji starts. He looks at her incredulously because he honestly has no clue what he was calling stupid. “Um, the methods.”

“What methods?” She’s grinning wide, eyes mocking. 

“Lasagna methods…”

“Stop starting fights for the sake of it.” She turns to Kuroo. “Keiji might look all gloomy and innocent but he’s an instigator at heart. Don’t worry though, it’s his love language.”

Keiji sputters, heat rushing to his cheeks as Kuroo bursts out laughing. Kenma quirks his eyebrows in amusement. “Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity, so I wouldn’t blame him.”

Kuroo shouts out an indignant _hey_ , while Keiji tries to compose himself from the onslaught of betrayal from Kaori. The fact that Kenma defended him only adds to the whirlwind in his mind. 

He decides to strike by stuffing his mouth with lasagna and witnessing the others’ interaction in judgmental silence. Kaori and Kuroo got along like a house on fire, and though that was worrisome in regards to Keiji’s sanity, he was glad Kaori approved of him, as well as Bokuto and Kenma. He may not be enthusiastic about spending time with them but they certainly weren’t the worst people to know. 

After lunch, Bokuto helps with the dishes and Kaori heads to Keiji’s room to help him clean. He does his laundry while Kaori stacks his books and assignments into neat lines. They work in silence, dusting and mopping and spraying until Keiji’s room looks straight out of a magazine. Kaori eyes the half empty bottle on his desk and wrinkles her nose.

“I know you don't like them, but take your meds on time, okay?”

Keiji nods solemnly. He takes the bags of trash from Kaori and goes to dump them near the community rubbish chute. Kaori follows him, more because she has nothing better to do than because she wants to help him lug the heavy bags out the door. 

“You’re weirdly antagonistic with Kuroo. Any reason for that?”

“You’ve seen him. He’s loud and obnoxious: perfectly good reasons for me to be antagonistic.”

“Nah, I can’t decide if you like him or he’s just so out of your comfort zone that you don't know what to do with yourself.” She says, lips pulling into a smirk. “Otherwise you could have said the same about Bokuto.” 

Keiji looks at her in disbelief. “Are you seriously suggesting that I am one of those elementary school boys who bully their crushes.”

“Okay, maybe not.”

Keiji huffs out a breath. He can’t deny that he does treat Kuroo a little harshly, but it is completely justified when Kenma and Bokuto’s pleasant company just amplifies Kuroo’s nasty. 

“Isn't it time for you to go? You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Kaori rolls her eyes again and heads back inside. 

Keiji leaves Kaori to exchange contacts with his neighbours while he pulls on a beanie to hide his messy hair, courtesy of Kaori. He watches as she bid them a last farewell and accompanies her down the stairs to her bike. 

“I’m glad you’re fitting in all right.” She says. 

Keiji grimaces. “Please don’t start, I might actually have to start calling you ‘mom’ unironically.”

Kaori laughs lightly, the sound tapering off into silence. “No, really. You could use a new place to call home. Your last one was kinda lacking in the comfort department.”

She moves forward to catch him in an embrace, then kisses his cheeks. A whistle rings out and Keiji looks up to see Kuroo and Bokuto looks at them from the walkway outside his apartment, an insufferable smirk on Kuroo’s bastard face. Keiji gives them both a rude gesture and turns to Kaori. 

“I am not comfortable, at all.” 

“Sure. Take care okay?”

His “Yes, mom.” earns him a whack on the head but Kaori puts on her helmet too quickly for him to return the favour. 

She waves one last time and drives off, the roar of her engine lingering even as her bike disappears around the corner. Kuroo is waiting for him with the door to _his_ apartment open behind him. 

“You’re so cute with your girlfriend. Could spare some of the niceness with me.” He says.

Keiji narrows his eyes at him as he enters. “You say that as if you haven’t been flirting with her the whole time. Just be glad she’s as dense as a brick.” 

“Oh! Did you get jealous? I can always flirt with you too, you know, to even things out.”

If Keiji could roll his eyes any harder, he would see his brain. “There’s nothing to be jealous of, we’re not like that.”

“Sure.” 

Bokuto and Kenma are seated at the couch, engrossed in a game. Kenma notices him and shifts to make space. Keiji forces down the bubble of elation and takes a seat. There’s the familiar urge to get back to his room, start working and stop wasting time, but he ignores it in favour of watching Kenma mercilessly annihilate Bokuto. Besides, he would be dropping a class or two, certainly that calls for some relaxation and time-wasting. 

Kenma leans back as the screen explodes in an array of colours, announcing him the victor. His shoulders brush against Keiji’s and neither move away.  
“You and Kaori bicker like a married couple.” Kenma says, voice smooth like honey. 

Keiji waits for Bokuto to finish howling in pain at his loss before responding. “We’ve known each other since we were in our diapers. Besides, you and Kuroo argue way more than us.” 

“We aren’t a couple though,” Kenma supplies. “Us dating would just be plain weird.” 

Something clatters in the kitchen and Kuroo yelps. “Whoops, I dropped something.”

Keiji doesn't bother with a response and instead quirks an eye at Kenma. “Why’s that?”

Kenma pauses, fingers flicking over his controller absentmindedly. “Dunno.” 

Behind him, Bokuto looks constipated. 

Keiji suddenly recalls a very strange conversation he had with Bokuto and his brain signals an urgent need to change the topic. “I get it, Kuroo seems like a hard person to date. I don’t even think he qualifies under ‘person’. He reminds me of the witch from Hansel and gretel, fattening me up so he can kill me later on.”

Despite the utter bullshit that just left Keiji’s mouth, Bokuto finds it hilarious enough to throw his head back and laugh. “I can totally see that!”

Kenma nods along, “Explains my apple pie addiction.”

From the kitchen Kuroo groans. “Akaashi, I really don’t appreciate the slander. After all I do for you? This is the thanks I get?”

“What can I say, I am the epitome of a grateful resident in this humble home.”

Kuroo snarks a reply and Bokuto continues the conversation, but Keiji is already a little dazed from his unexpected admission. _Home_. 

He looks around. Kenma is ignoring everyone again, and Kuroo and Bokuto are loud enough that Keiji can feel his ears starting to bleed, but something about the atmosphere strikes him as oddly warm. He can’t remember if his parents’ house ever felt this warm, heck if it ever felt anything but cold and empty. 

_Home._ Keiji thinks. _Maybe I can make this my home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:   
> "The sun hasn't even come up and you want me to do what now?"


End file.
